The first week was definitely difficult. It wasn't the kids. They're great. First, it's the constant planning that needs to be done and the feeling that I'm already so behind. They warned us that we needed to be prepared with the whole unit's plans, but of course, I was worried about other things, and didn't actually finish. One week later, I've pulled two all-nighters and woken up at 4AM twice to finish work for the next day. Methinks that has to change or else I'll be dead soon.
Secondly, my own impatience made the week tough. It wasn't that I was impatient with my kids. A big part of it is the realization that I am really, really new at all of this and don't quite know what I'm doing but I want it to all be done by... yesterday. It was day two and I was frustrated that I hadn't already gotten the class to autopilot mode with procedures the way I wanted them to be halfway through the year. I was frustrated that we didn't already know the reading and math levels of all of our students, annoyed that our roster kept changing in the middle of the day, and that bathroom/water breaks were taking 15 minutes out of learning time. With all of this stuff going on, I couldn't figure out how to get through all of my lesson plans and actually teach the things that I was supposed to teach. Week two starts tomorrow, but I still haven't done a single science, health, or social studies lesson.
So, it's tiring, and I definitely need to figure out a way to get out of my own head. I always knew that I'm a very impatient person. Anyone who works or has worked with me knows this. Hopefully by the end of all this I'll be a more patient person. That would certainly help my blood pressure and put me at lower risk for heart disease.
And now, interesting things from the week:
- We have a student (Allen, I'll call him) who gets in moods and will flat out refuse to do things. One day his special education (SPED) teacher came to take him for a session and he would not budge from his seat. I convinced him to go outside and after a little talking, asked him if he thinks he's smart. He said yes, and I told him I think so, too. I also asked him if he thinks other people think he's smart, and he said no. I told him to go prove it to everyone, so he went. Patience, please.
- On Friday, Allen asked the librarian what she would do if he threw a pencil in her eye. She flipped out and yelled at him, and then told us that he needed to be punished. Granted, the lady is not the greatest teacher (read: not good at all), but he did need to understand that he couldn't just say things like that. We decided he was going to sit in during recess and write an apology letter. We took the other kids to recess, and as we turned to head back, Allen took off down the hall and ran away. I spent the next ten minutes walking around the school looking for him before we finally got him back to the class to write his letter. It was like camp my third year again! Patience, please.
- David's deskmates kept complaining about him because he couldn't sit still and kept hitting their things when he was fidgeting. I tried to encourage his deskmates to be patient, but he kept getting in trouble with my co-teacher. Every time he got in trouble, he would put his head down and stop listening. I moved his desk in the middle of a lesson one day after someone at his table complained again. He put his head down and stopped paying attention... again. When I asked him why, he just told me that he's always getting in trouble. I said to him that he's not in trouble, and reminded him that only the day before he had asked if he could move to his own table so he wouldn't bother other people. I said that I know he's not a bad kid, I just want him to be able to pay attention and work hard so he can show everyone what a smart kid he is. Now, he sits in the front of the classroom by the teacher's desk. Every once in a while as I walk by he'll tap my arm and ask, "Am I being good right now?" "Yes, you are being very good." Then, he smiles, and gets back to work. Patience, please.
- They want to send Francis (the Dominican kid who doesn't speak English) back to 3rd grade, and put him in 2nd grade for English. I want to fight this so badly, but I am new here so don't quite know what to do. As a third grader, he spent his entire last year in a 1st grade classroom. The kid doesn't speak English, but he knows that he doesn't belong there. In fact, BECAUSE he doesn't speak English, he probably thought they put him with babies because they think he's dumb, not because of English. Of course, he kept getting in trouble, and was never allowed to speak in class. How would he learn English if he never gets a chance to speak it? So, he moved to the next year knowing the sounds of C-A-T, but not knowing that "cat" means the animal that goes, "Meow." I've been taking him during reading time to just talk in English, learn words, do easy reading, and label things in the room. Some of the other students see me walking around in the back with him as he spells out "book" and puts a card on the book, and I am so happy to see them smile and encourage him. He wanted to label "people" and he put the card on his classmate's desk. Then, he wrote "friend" and put it on another student's desk. When everyone lined up to go to the library, both of the other kids went up to Francis and gave him a high five. "Hey, Francis! Friend!" "Hey, Francis! We're all people!" Later that day, during math, I hear a kid yell out (completely inappropriately), "I NEED HELP! COME ON!" I turn and see Francis yelling out loud and disrupting the class. "Stop. Raise your hand, please," I said. He sat down, raised his hand, and said, "Please help?" I could have died. Patience, please.
I really hope the next 175 days just keep getting better...
Oh, and I am so happy for long weekends.
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